No One to Miss
by candylyn
Summary: This my rant. I have read a few things recently that makes me believe that Marvel has abandoned the fans of Jubilee and Wolverine and I ain't to happy about this. So I figures if Marvel don't care about their own creation, why should the X-Men.


TITLE- No One To Miss  
AUTHOR- candy aka candylynn  
E-MAIL ME- darksydelady@aol.com  
RATING-R  
DISCLAIMER-I don't own anyone in the story.  
NOTES- I am writing this out of rage, anger and utter contempt for Marvel Comics and their choosing to not to pair Jubilee with Wolverine anymore. While nothing is set in stone, I have read a few articles and post leading me to believe that their friendship is little more than dust now and it angers me. I am a grown woman with a good job, a loving husband, and a terrific life. Having said that I am upset about a comicbook plot, to me this is no different than a grown man being upset for a week because his favorite team lost the Superbowl *ahem*. So since nobody seems to want them together anyway (marvel or most Fans), I figure this would be fitting.  
  
  
It was cold, snowy and damp. And she didn't give a damn about any of it. Seven months, four weeks, and three days; the length of time she had last heard anything from Wolvie, excuse me, Logan. Emma and the others seemed indefferent to her pain, then again this is the same bunch of assholes that didn't notice that she had been missing for a MONTH when Bastion took her.  
  
And the same bunch that seemed not to notice that Kitty was now missing. No search parties, no Cerebro, no nothing. Charles was too busy crying over Moira, Jean was too busy looking for her dead husband and Storm was too busy with T'Challa. Gambit was too busy chancing Rogue who according to Bishop was getting all chummy chummy with Wolverine of late. Colossus was starting to cry in his soup about Charles dream, again, and Nightcrawler...whatever.  
  
As the van pulled into the garage Jubilee looked at her compaigns and sighed with relief. She crawled over Angelo who yelled a resounding 'hey' and hoped out the car. Angry, she was so damned mad she coud spit fire.   
  
She entered the kitchen, Bobby and Kurt appeared to be having a lighthearted conversation while, Logan fawned over Jean, as usual, at the table. Her face twisted into the most heartstoping expression she could muster. All four X-Men present could feel the very air crackle with her bitter distain for her so-called best friend.   
  
Seven months, four weeks, and three days; her room was torched, Ev had died, she was alone and lonely and now here he was hugged up next to Jean drinking coffee, and exchanging goggly eyes with the Widow Summers. It was at times like this she really believed Jean did love Logan, but had chose the safer of her two beaus, Scott.  
  
"Darlin'," he whispered? That's all it took to light the fuse. The Danger Room, she had to get to the Danger Room, before either powered a paff that WOULD be strong enough to kill him or cry. And she had promised herself never to shed another tear for the backstabbing bastard she had a crush on now for three years.  
  
She bolted passed everyone, Jean tried to call her back, but the coldness in Jubilee's eyes made Jean reconsider. Logan passively looked at his old sidekick as she marched out of the room, "She'll be 'kay Jeanie, she's tough, probably Monet called her an ugly ducklin' again," the kitchen erupted in laughter. So that's it, they thought she was an ugly ducklin' uh, she could get over anything uh?  
  
She darted down the hall, no one noticed her, not Bishop, not Cable, nobody like she was invisible. Once in the Danger Room, she wiggled out her sweater and jeans and got suited up in her spanky new unform. It was black, like a long sleeved bathing suit with a thong. Her knee high boots felt good. She pulled her shoulder length hair out of her face and pinned it up with a clip.  
  
She knew that the rule was no one in the Danger Room alone, but she also knew no one knew she was here and with it being Christmas Even no one would notice the light over the door either. She entered the control room, keyed in Charles' override code, the one no one was suppose to have, so that she could do this alone. She leafed through the online music library and picked Orgy's new song "Fiction (Dreams In Digital)" along with some DMX and Tupac, God Bless you Everett, and then decided to use Logan's Sabertooth program for training. Wouldn't it be funny if he killed her and they finally discovered her body three days later with DMX's "I'm Slipping, I'm Falling, I Can't Get Up," playing.  
  
Orgy's song kicked it off. Victor Creed's image appeared before, snarling and drooling like an idiot. "Hault visual program," she ordered. This wasn't right. Creed didn't do that, he was a psycho but he didn't look like a dog, hell no more like an angry football player. "Resume," she ordered. Creed charged, she ducked and dodged him gleefully for ten minutes, then launched several high powered paffs at him. Each time the berzerker went flying into the closest wall.   
  
Finally she got bored, "End program," she ordered. The lights came up and the image of Creed vanished. Jubilee entered the Control Room and hacked into the security system, she could see Logan, Jean, Emma and Sean gathered in the living room drinking 'nog and laughing. In the three hours since they arrived no one noticed she was gone. NO ONE.  
  
"Fine," she said thoughtfully. As much as it hurt to realize that she wasn't important to them it was a needed wake up call. She began thinking. She had access to the most powerful computers in the world, seven hundred dollars saved up and in her backpack, and she knew she could scare up a few more bucks around the house. "Merry Christmas Lee."  
  
Her parents hated her, they never wanted kids and when they had her they were in their early forties, too old. Logan had tricked her, like the rest of them, into believing that they cared, but it was clear all they wanted was another foot soldier in ther war with Magneto. And Everett had toys with her emotions only to run to Monet's perfect arms. What the hell was she still doing there?  
  
In a flash she left the Control Room, got to her room, repacked her things, picked the lock on Logan door and found a grand in one hundred dollar bills in her dresser. Smiling she knew she'd be cool. New York was a big enough city for her to get lost in, or not be found, not that they would look.  
  
Quietly, she waked down the steps and through the now empty kitchen. Taking her coat off the peg in the garage she recovered her rollerbladed from the van. One last thing to do.  
  
She'd only slipped her jeans on over her uniform, reaching into her jacket, she fingered the patch over her heart with the red and gold X on it. Carefully she ripped it off without danaging the suit and tossed it on the hood of the truck. "Fuck a two weeks notice," she hissed. Opening the side door, she slipped out. She raced to the lowest point at the brick fence and climbed over.  
  
Without looking back, Jubilation Lee disappeared into the night. It would be forty eight hours before anyone noticed she was gone, not that they cared. 


End file.
